If You Give a Wizard a Gun
by BreetanyaViolet
Summary: The summer after Harry's fifth year, he asks his uncle for one last thing... One shot... written at two a.m. posted around ten of three... of course its gonna be weird.


**_If You Give a Wizard a Gun..._**  
  
**AN:  
  
XshrugsX  
  
I don't know.  
  
Please don't ask.  
  
I don't understand it myself.  
  
I also do not own Harry Potter.**  
  
"Uncle Vernon, can I see your gun?" Harry Potter asked his uncle.  
  
"AND what would a freak like you want with a gun?" Vernon bellowed angrily.  
  
"To see it," Harry said coldly. "I'm sure my friends that spoke to you at the train station would be angry..."  
  
"Enough!" Vernon snapped walking over to the one drawer in the kitchen with a lock on it that Dudley did not have the key to. Petunia was too worried that her little boy would be curious about a gun and accidently blow his own head off for Dudley to manipulate his parents into giving him the key. He opened the drawer and handed Harry a sleek handgun.  
  
Harry looked at it and opened the barrel... there were no bullets in the gun.  
  
_If you give an underaged green eyed wizard a gun durring the summer... he would like a bullet for the gun._  
  
How ironic, Harry thought bitterly looking at the hollow gunbarrel. Its just like my life, its purpose is also to kill... "Uncle Vernon, may I see the bullets for the gun?"  
  
Vernon Dursley turned that interesting shade of red most people only exibit when holding their breath for a prolonged ammount of time, in about two seconds and sputtered angrily for a few minutes seemingly incapible of coherent speach.  
  
"May I see the bullets for the gun?" Harry asked again irriatably as he became impacient with his Uncle's antics, Dung's shift would be over soon and he didn't want to explain things to Professor Lupin who would be the one to relieve Dung of his shift.  
  
"Bloody hell, insane freak," Vernon muttered under his breath as he got out a box of bullets and shoved it roughly into his nephew's hand.  
  
_If you give an underaged green eyed wizard a bullet durring the summer... he would like to load it into the gun._  
  
Harry took out some bullets and looked at them curiously without relinquishing his hold on the gun. It was the perfect way, truely it was.  
  
"Uncle, how do you load the gun?" Harry demanded anxiously glancing at the clock.  
  
"You are not going to act like that GODFATHER of yours and kill everyone in sight are you?" Vernon demanded looking at Harry in a slightly fearful manner.  
  
Harry winced at the comment about his godfather, salt in an already sore opened wound, one which Harry was certain that was self inflicted. It was his fault that his Godfather had went to the Department of Mysteries. It was his fault Sirius was dead. Well... no more...  
  
"Tell me how to do it or I'll curse you whether or not I'd be expelled," Harry said coldly and glaring at his Uncle so fiercely it would have shocked Snape, who was known to have the scariest glare in the whole damned wizarding world, Voldemort didn't bother perfecting his glares, he used the Crucatius curse to glare for him.  
  
Vernon started to explain very quickly how to load the gun.  
  
_If he loads the bullet into the gun... the underaged green eyed wizard would like to shoot it at something._  
  
"Thank you," Harry said once the gun was loaded. He pointed the gun at the floor and pulled the trigger, nothing happened.  
  
"BOY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO DO? RUIN PETUNIA'S KITCHEN?" Vernon yelled at the wizard who was armed both with muggle and wizarding weapons, a gun and a wand.  
  
Harry calmly pointed his wand at the muggle and asked monotonely, "Why didn't it go off?"  
  
Vernon looked nervously at the wand and said hastily, "You didn't take the saftey off. The gun won't go off unless you take the saftey off."  
  
"How do I do that?" Harry asked in the same monotone voice. Vernon answered, staring at Harry's wand all the while.  
  
_If the underaged green eyed wizard shoots the gun... he would kill himself._  
  
"Thank you Vernon," Harry said walking out of the kitchen and into the back yard. "You've finally done something kind for me."  
  
"W... what are you going to do?" Vernon Dursley called after the underaged green eyed wizard.  
  
"Die," Harry replied, and then two bangs were heard in quick succession, the first one sounding like a car back fireing, and the second like a gun being shot, causing Vernon to run into the back yard, against his better judgement. He saw Harry on the ground, a hole in his head where his scar used to be.  
  
"HARRY!" a tired looking man with greying hair appeared apparently out of no where and cradled the body of the dead boy. "WHY? WHY?"  
  
The man layed down Harry's body and turned on the shocked muggle, "WHY THE HELL did you give a depressed boy a GUN? WHY THE HELL DID YOU LET HIM DO THIS? WHY? Do you HATE the wizarding world so much that you would assist a teenager in committing SUICIDE?"  
  
"I... I... I... didn't know," Vernon sputtered as Mrs. Number Six looked over the fence to see a dead 'juvienial delinquent' and screamed.  
  
"What else would he want with a gun?" the man whispered and went back to cradling Harry's body.  
  
_If you must give an underaged green eyed wizard a gun, do not give him the bullet or he will kill himself._  
  
**AN:  
  
Please review...  
  
and if you can figure out WHY... please tell me...**


End file.
